The Edge of Destiny
by kewljules2
Summary: Ginny and Malfoy are stuck on a mysterious island,Ron and Hermione are wanted by magical and muggle police,Harry is living on the run, a muggle girl with strange powers his only company. The war is rushing headlong to a strange finale. Destiny is calling.
1. Prolouge

Prolouge

Dawn. Hermione Granger peered out her bedroom window. Nothing. There had been no stars that night, but more importantly, no glittering green serpent had appeared in the sky. Glancing over her room one last time, she flicked her wand and levitated her trunk out her bedroom door and down the stairs.

She surveyed her mother's kitchen. The worn wooded table was set for breakfast, and a pot of tea was boiling on the stove. Hermione lowered her trunk to the ground next to the fireplace, and checked the flowerpot of Floo powder again.

"Good morning, darling."

"Morning, Mum," said Hermione, turning to peck her mother on the cheek as she emerged from the pantry. "How long have you been up?"

Ellen Granger cracked an egg into a mixing bowl. "Not long at all. I'm surprised you didn't beat me down here, you've been waiting for this all month."

"All summer, Mum," said Hermione, going to the fridge and pulling out an apple. She winced. "I didn't mean it like that, Mum. I missed you and Dad all year. I always do. But I need to be with Harry. And with Ron. They need me."

Mrs. Granger smiled to herself. "I know, dear. I know what you meant."

A yowl broke the silence that had fallen. Crookshanks barreled through the door, in hot pursuit of a tiny ball of fluff hovering a few feet above the ground. Pig had made his presence known.

Hermione clapped her hands, and Pig zoomed over to her. Zipping around in the air, he hovered just long enough for Hermione to untie the letter he was carrying, and he was off again.

It was from Ginny.

_Hermione,_

_You can't get here fast enough. Fleur is driving me mad, fretting. I told her that Bill will think she looks fine. Why the bloody hell does she insist on fussing when she's unbearably gorgeous? If anyone was going to fuss, it should be me._

_Charlie, Fred and George are all here, and they're all talking in low voices over in one corner. Order business, obviously. But am I allowed to listen? Or contribute? Of course not. Does it matter that I was at the Ministry two years ago? Or that I fought at the end of last year? Not a smidge. I feel useless. Mum keeps telling me to help her wash dishes, or something. I'm going to scream if I can't be useful._

_Ron's driving me spare, too. Keeps checking the clock, and then his trunk and then he peers out windows as if watching for an owl. I told him the Cannons didn't have an icicle's chance in hell of winning another match for the next five years and he smiled. Smiled! _

_Help._

_Ginny_

Hermione smiled grimly, and slipped the letter into her back pocket. Poor Gin. She'd be even angrier when she found out what she, Harry and Ron were planning. Hermione hoped Ginny wouldn't try to follow them. Molly Weasley was fierce, but Ginny could be a force of nature at times.

"Is everything all right, dear?" her mum asked.

"Just fine." Hermione's heart clenched again. She was lying to her parents, too. They had no idea that their only child was planning to skip her final year of school and go traipsing around England looking for Dark objects. "Ginny's just asked me to bring a book she leant me."

Mrs. Granger accepted this explanation without a second thought. Her mind didn't even fully register it, because at that moment her husband entered the kitchen. She kissed him. "Hello, love."

Mr. Granger swept his petite wife into his arms and kissed her again. "Morning," he said, as he put her down. He came over to his daughter and kissed the top of her head. "Morning, darling."

Hermione beamed up at her father. "Hi Daddy."

"It's the big day, isn't it? Excited? Nervous? Happy?"

Hermione smiled. "Daddy, it's not me getting married. Honestly."

Bill Granger winked. "But it could be soon! I saw that young redhead watching you in the station when we picked you up this year. Strapping young lad."

Hermione blushed faintly, but merely said "Daddy, Ron was worried about me, that's all. Dark wizards, Death Eaters…you never know."

Mr. Granger smiled. "If you're with him or Harry, dear, I won't worry about you. They both love you very much. In different ways, of course."

"Honestly!" was the only word Hermione could get out. Ron, Ron was her friend. That was all he wanted. She pushed down the warm feeling in her stomach she got from hearing his name. He had held her at the funeral, in his arms, and she had felt so safe, and he had smoothed her hair away from her face and his arms were so strong and he was so solid to hold onto…

"Hermione?"

Hermione blushed, again. 'Stop doing that!' she told herself sternly. "Sorry Mum. What did you say?"

"I asked if you had gotten your Head Girl letter yet."

Hermione shrugged. "No. But I got a note from Professor McGonagall saying they might be a little delayed this year. They might not even announce it until we reach Hogwarts." Again, the twinge in her gut. She was lying. She had gotten her letter, but had thrown it in the rubbish bin without even opening it. She didn't want to read the letter congratulating her on getting the position she would never fill.

Ellen Granger shrugged. "Well, you'll get it, I'm sure. We're so proud of you, darling. Our little girl, all grown up. Her last year at Hogwarts." She walked over to Hermione and wrapped her arms around her. "I am so, _so_ incredibly proud of you, my darling girl."

Hermione couldn't help it. She felt tears spring to her eyes. She would not cry. She squeezed her eyes shut, but they seeped out. A sob escaped her throat. Hermione felt her father's strong arms wrap around her and her mother.

The Grangers stood in their kitchen, holding each other. Hermione cried, praying for the safety of her parents. 'Please, please, whoever is out there…help them. Keep them safe this year…I love them so much. Keep my parents safe.'

Finally, the clock chimed seven. The three broke apart, and Hermione wiped her eyes. "I'd better go. They'll wonder where I am and worry." Her mother nodded, wiping her own eyes. "Go, go, I don't want Molly to fret. Try and write. I love you." She kissed her daughter on the cheek one last time. Hermione pressed her hand there, trying to preserve it in her heart.

Her father dropped her trunk in the fireplace and turned to her. "Well, darling girl. This is it, for another year. I love you." He swept her up into his arms like he had done since she was a child. Hermione clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and breathing in her father's scent, a mix of spices and burning leaves.

"I love you Daddy. So much. Be safe. Please take care of Mum."

He laughed. "I always do." Planting one last kiss in her hair, he lowered her to the floor. "Say...where's Crookshanks? Don't want to forget him, now, do you?"

The twinge was turning into a wrench. "Actually," she lied, " I though I'd have him stay here this year. He developed a dislike of one of the first year's toads last year. I told Micah I'd leave him at home. Besides, you'll both get to spend some more time with him, I know you love him!" She smiled brightly. "Well, then, that's it. I should really go now. I'm three minutes late as it is."

Ellen allowed herself to be pulled into the arms of her husband. "Goodbye, darling. The year will be over before you know it. Be safe." She waved to her daughter, now standing in the fireplace with her trunk and a handful of Floo powder.

Hermione was blinking back tears. She prayed it would not be the last time she would see her parents. She tried to fix every detail of them in her mind. Her mother's slightly rumpled blouse, her father's crazy graying hair. Her mother's kind brown eyes. Her father's warm smile. " I love you both," she said.

"The Burrow!"

**A/N: Hey, y'all. I'm not new to the site, but I'm pretending I am. I wrote a few fics, a looong time ago, but they were very bad and I dislike being reminded of them. So, let's just call this my first story, ok? K.**

**Now that the requisite introductions are over and done with:**

**I love reviews.**

**I like NICE reviews, and reviews with CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. Don't be nasty, please. I'll send out my flying monkeys. **

**This is a D/G fic with loads of R/Hr. If you don't ship it, don't read it. Or, you can read it if you want to, but don't review and whine about it. I'm not forcing you to read it.**

**I'll probably be updating this pretty often, but Audrey, my muse, is known to take sudden, month long holidays with jet-setting playboys. She comes back with killer tans and I'm stuck here tapping my fingers impatiently. So don't blame me, blame Audrey. And if it's not Audrey, then it's that other foe of mine, real life.**

**But I'll try REALLY hard. Swear.**

**And now on with the story!**

**Next: Hermione arrives at the Burrow. Ron is at the Burrow. 'Awww' alert.**


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

Ron Weasley paced when he was nervous. And right now he was extremely nervous. Ron had two reasons to be nervous, if he was being honest with himself. The first and foremost reason was that he and his two best friends would not be returning to Hogwarts the next day, but would instead slip away in the dead of the night to search for Voldemort's Horcruxes. The second reason, which was making him almost more nervous than the first, was that Hermione was coming to the Burrow.

Hermione, had, of course, come to the Burrow countless times before. But this time was different. This was their last time before facing the big bad world. And this was the first time he had seen her since the train station. Since the funeral.

Ron had held her close to him at Dumbledore's funeral, stroking her hair and whispering nonsensical words of comfort to her through his own tears. He'd run his hands over her back, and felt her relax into him.

Ron had never been sure of what love really was. He had seen the way his parents had always looked at each other. But other than them, Ron had no idea what people in love looked or acted like. But when Ron had held Hermione at the funeral, he had known without a doubt. He loved Hermione, and he loved her with all his heart.

What the hell was he going to do?

Ron Weasley was still pacing when a green flash of light from the fireplace announced the arrival of a sobbing witch.

- - -

Hermione landed in the Burrow's familiar fireplace, and banged her knee into her trunk. She was crying again.

'Get it together, Hermione!' she thought frantically. 'Can't let anyone see me crying.'

She hiccupped quietly, and blinked a few times. Soot in her eyes. Lovely. She was blinded. And she had dropped her wand.

Hermione did the only sensible thing left to do. She sunk to the floor and bawled.

Footsteps were coming closer. A callused hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her to her feet. She knew that hand. And she knew the chest into which she now found herself pressed very well.

"Ron!"

"Shh, Hermione. It's alright. It's alright." Hermione started slightly. His voice was so deep. It was rough and soothing at the same time. She buried her face in his shoulder and let her tears wet his t-shirt. He held her while she cried for a few minutes.

"I dropped my wand," she finally said for lack of anything better to say.

She felt Ron stoop a little, but he didn't let go of her.

"Accio," he said gruffly. "Here you go."

Hermione sniffed and did a cleansing spell on her eyes as Ron released her from his arms. She blinked. The kitchen of the Burrow came into focus, looking as cheery as she remembered it. A pot of soup was bubbling on the stove. The scrubbed wooden table was set for five. And there was a very tall, sturdy redhead standing worriedly next to her left elbow.

"Hello, Ron," she said. "Thank you."

"Are you all right, Hermione?" he asked. Hs hand came up to cup her cheek.

Hermione shivered agreeably at his touch. "I- I'm fine, Ron. I was just worried about…my…"

"You were worried about your parents," said Ron, looking at her intently. "They'll be safe, Hermione. Lupin and Bill have been planning the wards on your house for ages now. They were waiting 'till you were out. Tonks will help Lupin put them up tomorrow."

"That makes me feel a bit better. Do you think Remus and Bill would let me see their plans?"

"Of course they would. You'll probably find a way to improve them, too," he said, enveloping her in another hug. "Bloody genius," he muttered into her hair.

"Ron! Don't swear!"

Ron would've rolled his eyes, but he was too busy holding his best friend to his heart for all he was worth.

Two pops announced the arrival of the twins. Ron looked up and glared at them. Hermione, blushing faintly, disentangled herself from Ron's arms.

"Hello Fred, George."

"Fred, look! It's Hermione!"

"Our favorite-"

"Most feared-"

"Most revered-"

"Most Magical and Honorable Head Girlshipness!"

Hermione laughed. "You two are as insufferable as ever."

"That's why you love us!" said George with a winning grin. "Can we interest you in a scone, Hermione?"

Hermione scoffed. She knew better than to try and take anything from the twins.

Fred sighed sadly, brandishing a tin of scones. "Such distrust, Hermione. We're hurt."

"Deeply wounded."

"Cut."

"Scarred."

"Traumatized."

"Offended."

"And still trying to get someone to test those new Sweltering Scones?"

All four turned at the sound of the new voice.

"Harry!" cried Hermione, running to him and throwing her arms around him. "I've been so worried about you." She held him out at arm's length and peered intently into his face, then hugged him again. "Happy Birthday in person, by the way. I wish I could have been here. I'll give you your present later. But how are you? Really and truly, how are you?"

Harry laughed at Hermione's rapid fire questioning and shrugged. "As well as can be expected, Hermione. I've been busy. Reading. Researching. I visited Godric's Hollow last week." He looked over Hermione carefully. "You've lost weight. Have you been eating?"

Hermione laughed. "Of course. Stop worrying, Harry, that's my job."

Ron joined in. "And she does it so well," he said.

Hermione bumped him with her hip. He stuck out his tongue. Hermione looked down and blushed faintly before casually slipping her hand into his.

Harry raised an eyebrow. Hermione and Ron both raised one back; not noticing the other was doing the same thing. Fred and George snickered. Ron whipped around and shot them both a glare. There was an awkward silence.

"So," said Hermione brightly. "Where's everyone else?"

"Bill, Charlie, Remus, Mr. Weasley, Kingsley and Moody are all in the garden," said Harry, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Ginny, Fleur and Mrs. Weasley are all upstairs. I think they wanted you to join them when you got here, Hermione."

"Oh, alright," said Hermione, looking a bit pink, still holding Ron's hand. "I'll just levitate my trunk up to Ginny's room then, shall I?"

Ron gently dropped her hand. "I'll get it," he said. "You go on."

Hermione smiled shyly at him, turned, and ran up the stairs. The twins and Harry turned as one to look at Ron.

"What was that all about, mate?" Harry asked, slyly. "Hermione was blushing, and you were looking at her all…all…"

"Lovey," supplied George.

Ron's ears turned faintly red, but he stood his ground. "What of it?" he asked.

Harry looked at his best friend. "You love her, don't you, you great prat?"

Ron looked a bit apprehensive. "Is it that bad?"

Harry whooped. "Bad? It's great! You two are finally…you're finally…this is great, Ron."

Ron looked even more nervous. "Harry, what if she doesn't feel the same way? I mean, I really love her. I love her. Bloody hell, I _love_ her."

Fred put a hand on his brother's shoulder. He was completely serious as he looked into his younger brother's eyes. "Don't be thick, Ron. Did you see the way she looked at you? Have you noticed anything over the past six years? She loves you just as much as you love her. I'd bet my top-secret recipe for the Sweltering Scones on it."

Ron smiled stupidly.

"Great Merlin, we've lost another," sighed George in disgust. "First Bill, and now Ickle Ronnikins.

Clapping their brother on the back, the twins went back outside, leaving Ron and Harry in the kitchen.

"For someone who's about to sneak away from his family to hunt Horcruxes all over England, you're in a disgustingly good mood," said Harry jovially.

Ron looked at him. "For the Chosen One who has to find four more Horcruxes, destroy them, and then kill Voldemort, you're in a damn good mood, too." A thought occurred to him. "Have you been staying away from my sister?"

Harry sighed. "I can't be with her, Ron, we both know that. We're acting the same way we did before we were together. It's not always easy, but we were such good friends before we dated anyway…"

Ron seemed to accept this.

"Besides," Harry continued, "I'm trying my hardest to enjoy my last day of normalcy, and to act like I'm excited about starting my seventh year of Hogwarts." He grinned at his taller friend. "Is it working?"

Ron nodded. "You would've fooled Hermione if she wasn't the one planning half of the trip."

Harry looked satisfied as he walked out the door to the garden. "Good," he said, Summoning an apple from the counter as an afterthought.

**A/N: So. I've made it to the first chapter. (Or second, depending on how you look at it.) **

**Sorry for how short this chapter is. It was kind of necessary and wouldn't fit anywhere else. (If I tacked it onto the beginning of the next chapter, if didn't flow right.) Please bear with me. Thanks.**

**Up next: Ginny is annoyed by her hair, and the Trio has some good, clean (wet) fun. o.O**

**Stay tuned, and reviews are most welcome.**


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"Honestly, Mum, can't I just leave my bloody hair down?" Ginny Weasley wound the offending strands around her tan fingers. She tugged angrily.

"Don't swear, Ginny, and no, you can't. It's going up, and it'll look lovely. You just have a great deal of it." Molly Weasley flipped through the worn copy of Glamour for Witches, as though a new hair spell would suddenly appear in the hand-me-down tome.

Ginny sighed. "Mum, you're not going to find anything. It's hopeless."

Fleur turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Molly, eet ees no trouble at all. Ginny can leave 'er 'air down eef she weeshes." She tugged at her own long silvery locks. "What am I do to, though? I weesh to look beautiful for Beel, and…and…" She sighed. Ginny rolled her eyes.

Mrs. Weasley patted Fleur's hand comfortingly. "You'll look lovely, Fleur." She had experienced quite the change of heart towards her daughter in law to be, after Fleur's declaration of love for Bill despite his new deformities. Mrs. Weasley looked at her daughter doubtfully. "I don't know, dear, it'd be rather inappropriate to have one of the bridesmaids with her hair down when even the bride doesn't, don't you think?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. Her mother could be painfully old fashioned when she put her mind to it. Sometimes she was surprised she wasn't made to wear a chastity belt. 'That wasn't fair,' she silently berated herself. 'Mum is just trying to make things nice for Fleur, and she's trying to show she's not playing favorites. But I still don't want to put it up,' she mentally added.

Fleur was smiling slightly. "Non, eet ees not a problem at all. Ginny ees vaary lovely and she should embrace eet. She 'as wonderful 'air."

Ginny grinned, pleased in spite of herself. Fleur was growing on her, slowly but surely. "Well, that's setteled then," she said, leaning back against her headboard. "Nice and easy. No fussing. No having to look up stupid spells."

Both Fleur and Mrs. Weasley also looked somewhat relieved. Ginny's hair was three times as thick as Fleur's, who, as a part veela, had rather thick hair herself.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" called Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione Granger entered, her bushy hair wild and flying in all directions. The three women sitting on the bed looked at each other, and Mrs. Weasley reached for the spell book as Ginny rose to give her faintly pink friend a tight hug.

Dinner that night was a lively affair. Bill and Charlie set up two tables outside like they had three years ago, and Mrs. Weasley cooked one of her famous meals. Even Fleur, who had looked a bit apprehensive at the amount of food at first, ate huge portions. Harry smiled and laughed with Fred and George, and whispered and joked with Ron and Hermione. Ginny and he shared glances occasionally, but she was mostly talking to Charlie.

By the time the pudding had been cleared away and the dishes levitated into the kitchen, everyone was dead on their feet. Most noticeably tired was Mrs. Weasley, who was trying vainly to hide her yawns. She insisted numerous times that everyone else should go to bed while she stayed and did the dishes, but the majority finally won out. Mr. Weasley practically had to carry her up the stairs, and Hermione, Ron and Harry volunteered to do the dishes and finish in the kitchen.

That was why Harry's new watch, a birthday gift from Mrs. Figg (it thankfully was devoid of cat ornamentation) read 'You should be in bed' and he was still standing over a sink, casting scrubbing charms.

"I don't understand it," muttered Ron. "Mum can usually be done this many dishes in an hour…and there are three of us." He shook his head sleepily, and muttered another charm.

"Well, she's been doing this for years, Ron. I would think she's have it down to an art by now," said Hermione, yawning. "Oh goodness, I'm about to fall asleep on my feet."

Ron yawned too. "H-h-hell, Hermione, go to bed. Harry and I can finish up."

Hermione raised one eyebrow, and Ron's heart skipped a beat. Hermione didn't notice him catch his breath.

"You think I'm going to leave you and Harry here washing dishes by yourself, in the kitchen?" She smiled. "We'd come down in the morning to find the wedding cake gone and you two sleeping on the couch with frosting on your chins."

Ron tried not to think of frosting and Hermione at the same time, but it was hard.

Harry chuckled. "You'd have to worry more about us falling asleep face down in the cake at this point, Hermione." He flicked his wand to cast one last sudsing spell, and mumbled the incantation. Unfortunately, he slurred a little on the last syllable.

Jets of soapy water began to shoot from Harry's wand with the force of a fire hose. Hermione shrieked and cast a hurried shield charm around the wedding cake and the rest of the wedding preparations laid out on the table.

"Bloody hell, Harry, turn it off!" yelled Ron, waving his own wand. "Expelli-"

"Ron, DON'T!" yelled Hermione, but it was too late. Harry's wand flew from his hand and began shooting off the walls of the kitchen, propelled by the force of the water. Hermione moaned and ducked as the wand narrowly missed her head.

"Oh no!" She cast a silencing spell on the kitchen. "There. No we won't wake anyone up," she yelled to Harry and Ron. Ron opened his mouth to respond and got a mouthful of suds. He spluttered and choked. Harry reached over and pounded him on the back. Purple and orange bubbles spewed from his mouth.

"Bloody FUCKING Merlin!" he roared when he could finally breath again. Harry laughed, and was promptly rewarded with a faceful of soap bubbles Ron had scooped off the counter. Harry blinked once behind his soapy glasses, turned, and splashed Hermione, who yelped in surprise. She looked torn for a moment whether to scold or join in on the fun. Ron wondered apprehensively if they had gone too far. But his anxiety melted away when she jumped on his back, and rubbed soap in his hair from behind.

"It's war!" cried Ron, exhaustion forgotten in the face of a potentially wet Hermione.

The wand was still flying around the kitchen at breakneck speed. It shattered a vase high on a shelf, which broke the three friends from their play and turned their minds to the more serious matter at hand: the capture of the rogue wand.

Hermione whipped out her own wand and pointed it at Harry's.

"Obfirmius!" she cried. Her wand locked onto Harry's, following its path around the kitchen.

"Where'd you learn that spell?" asked Ron with amazement. He's been reading up on his spells over the summer, but hadn't come across that one.

Hermione managed to blush even while tracking the wand's progress with quickly flickering eyes that flitted all over the room. "I invented it," she muttered.

Harry let out a whistle. "Impressive. That'd be helpful during a quidditch game." He looked momentarily wistful, remembering he wouldn't be playing this year.

Ron looked at soaking wet Hermione, and loved her very much at that moment. She was a bloody genius. A bloody genius who was dead sexy in a wet hoodie and tank top. He grinned to himself. God, but he loved her.

Hermione finally whipped her wand. "IMMOBOLIOUS!" she cried loudly. Harry's wand froze in mid air and slowly descended into his waiting palm. He flicked it, and a last bubble popped out of the tip. He grinned.

"Brilliant, Hermione. Thanks."

Hermione blushed again and cast drying charms on the kitchen, but left the three of them dripping. She turned to undo the shield charm on the table and slipped on a wet spot on the floor. Ron lunged forward and caught her as she was hitting the floor. He swept her off her feet and into his arms. She clung to Ron in her wet sweatshirt and jeans, which were sticking to her legs like they were painted on. Ron tried extremely hard not to stare at her thighs, outlined with little left to the imagination. She seemed oblivious of the effect she was having on him and hugged him again.

Hermione took in Ron's thin soaked white t-shirt, clinging to every muscle in his torso. His hard abdomen tapered down into thin hips, and dripping white fabric clung to the outline of his stomach. Her stomach did a little flutter, and she shivered.

Harry was watching them both with amusement in his eyes. He had cast a drying spell on himself already, and shook his hair out. He tried to smooth it down, but it jumped right back into its usual unruly mess.

"Are we done here?" he asked, after a few moments of silence.

Ron and Hermione seemed to come to themselves, and they hurriedly separated from their embrace, blushing and mumbling. Harry's grin almost didn't fit behind the hand he used to hide it.

Hermione cast a drying spell on her clothes, and hugged Harry. Her eyes were growing bright.

"I love you dearly, Harry," she whispered. "You're like a brother to me. I…I don't want to think about what might happen after tomorrow. I just-" She turned away from Harry slightly to hold her hand out to Ron, who took it. "I just want to remember us. Like this. I want to have something to be able to hold on to and remember if I need it."

Ron, who was still soaked, nodded slightly. His throat felt uncomfortably tight. Him and Harry. Harry and Hermione. Him and Hermione. All of them together. He loved both Hermione and Harry in very different ways. Suddenly, on impulse, he stepped forward and pulled both his best friends into a huge hug. Hermione seemed stiff at first, but then she wound her arms tight around both Ron and Harry and squeezed. Harry buried his head in Hermione's shoulder, and wrapped an arm around Ron's shoulder. The three of them stood there, not caring that Ron was slowly soaking the other two again with his wet clothes, not caring if they were sobbing quietly. Because at that moment in a very clean, lemon-y smelling kitchen in the Burrow, it was just about them and their friendship.

" 'Night, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Harry," said Hermione. She turned to Ron. "Goodnight. Ron." She twisted a frizzy lock of hair between her fingers. " 'Night."

Harry and Ron watched her shut the door to Ginny's bedroom behind her.

Harry looked at Ron, who was staring at the oak door as if he had never quite noticed it before, and punched his best friend on the arm.

"Ow!" said Ron. "What'd you do that for?"

"C'mon," said Harry, and led the way up to Ron's room.

_A dark cave. A ruined house. A ring. A cup. A locket. A locket. **A laugh**. Light. **Green light.** The Mark was over the Astronomy Tower. The Mark was over 4 Privet Drive. The Mark was over the Burrow. Red eyes. **Crucio.** Pain. Graveyard. Neither can live while the other survives. Bone of the father. **Kill the spare.** Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore wide-eyed. Cold. **Death**._

Harry gasped and woke up, sweat streaming down his face and running down his chest. He had deep fingernail marks in his palms from clenching his fists.

Dream, just another dream. He sighed. And not even a dream from Voldemort. Just a regular nightmare, scaring the shit out of him and leaving him short of breath with tears in his eyes.

"Damnit," he whispered. Pushing back his covers, he swung his legs over the side of the camp bed. He wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for at least an hour. Glancing at the lump of blankets in Ron's bed that was snoring, he decided to go down to the kitchen. He could use some hot chocolate.

Harry looked around the room for a shirt. He wasn't about to go down to the kitchen of Mrs. Weasley's house in the middle of the night without a shirt. She would tell him he was too thin and try to fatten him up. Harry wasn't feeling particularly hungry.

The only shirt Harry could find without waking Ron up was one of Ron's shirts, and that meant it was roughly three times his size. Harry resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to wear a bright orange tent if he wanted to avoid being force fed by the ferocious Mrs. Weasley.

Harry lit his wand dimly and shuffled down the stairs. A light was on in the kitchen. Charlie Weasley was sitting at the kitchen table. Bill Weasley was pacing anxiously behind him.

"Bill, will you sit down and drink something? It's too late - or too early - to be doing this."

"Easy for you to stay! You're not getting married tomorrow."

"Are you saying you're getting cold feet?" asked Charlie with a yawn.

"No! But what is she is?" Bill sounded pained.

Charlie sighed and leaned back on two legs of his chair. "Mate, if she hasn't gotten rid of you yet, I think you're safe."

Just then, Bill looked up and noticed Harry standing in the doorway. "Harry."

Charlie looked up. "Hi Harry."

Harry nodded awkwardly. "Hi Bill, Charlie. Sorry…I didn't mean to eavesdrop on you."

Bill waved a hand. "You're not eavesdropping. What brought you down here?"

Harry shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. I wanted some hot chocolate."

Charlie chuckled. "You're wearing Ron's shirt?"

Harry pulled at the orange material reproachfully. "Yeah. I figured it was better to be wearing a huge thing than to have your mum trying to force feed me."

Bill grinned at him and began to say something. Just then, there was a flash of green light and the fireplace roared.

Harry, Bill and Charlie all had their wands drawn within seconds. There was a cough from the fireplace.

"Drop your wand!" yelled Bill, his face twisting. "Identify yourself!"

Another cough. "Blimey, Bill. It's me. Tonks."

Bill didn't lower his wand. "What did you spill on me the first time I met you?"

Tonks sighed, dusting her pink hair off. "I didn't spill anything on you the first time. What'd I spill on you the second time?"

Bill lowered his wand. "Pumpkin juice."

Tonks stepped out of the fireplace. "Wotcher, Harry. Hey Charlie." She looked around, sudden fear appearing her face. "Where's Remus?"

The three men exchanged apprehensive glances. "I haven't seen Remus for days," said Charlie, slowly. "And he's not here now."

"Not here?" repeated Tonks slowly. "No. Remus said he was Apparating right behind me. Where is he?"

"He's not here, Tonks," said Harry slowly.

"Where were you? What happened?" asked Bill, pulling out a chair for Tonks, who was pale.

"Death Eaters. We were…we were staking out a camp when a scout must've spotted us. I swear, I didn't step on a branch. But oh Merlin…" She took a deep shuddering breath, and began speaking in a voice of trained calm. "The Death Eaters came out of nowhere. At least ten of them against two of us. When we couldn't hold them off any longer, Remus pulled a Flooport out of his bag and pushed me in. He said-" She broke off, and tears seeped out of her eyes. "He said he was right behind me!"

The kitchen was in dead silence as Tonks wiped her eyes. "I have to go back," she said, getting up. Harry noticed her stagger. "Bill!" he yelled.

Bill caught Tonks as she stumbled. A red stain was spreading over the cotton shirt she wore under her leather Auror spell vest.

"Shit," said Charlie.

"I'll get someone," said Harry, turning to the door, but Charlie was already up the stairs.

"Get her to the sofa," said Bill, helping Tonks to stand up. "C'mere, help me." He grunted with the effort.

Harry grabbed Tonks around the waist. He felt blood under his fingers. "Shit."

Tonks moaned. "No…I have to go back. Get off me." She lifted her fists. "Get the hell off me. I'm going back for Remus."

"No way in hell," gasped Harry, as one of Tonks' punches connected with his stomach. Even seriously wounded, the girl could hit.

"Please, Harry…" Tonks was sobbing now. "Bill. Please. You don't know what they do to people. You…Ilsa Lewis, last week…"

Even though Bill was trying to navigate Tonks to the couch he frowned. "Ilsa? I was at Hogwarts with her. What happened?"

Tonks' chest heaved with a sob. "The Death Eaters captured her last month on a mission. We…they sent…they sent the Auror department her body last week. It was…unrecognizable. We didn't…no one even thought it was a body at first. Then we got an owl. I didn't see it, but I heard Kingsley vomiting in the loo after. He read the note."

Bill's hands were clenching around Tonks' arm almost unconsciously, as if he was in pain.

Tonks sobbed again. "There…wasn't even a…head."

Harry felt his heart drop completely out of his chest. He felt as cold as if there was a Dementor in the room.

Bill dropped Tonks' arm, and kicked the wall.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed, and sank to the floor. He began crying quietly.

Tonks' crawled off the sofa and over to him. "Bill…I'm so sorry. I know you knew her. She…she was a good friend. I miss her too…but...Remus…what if…oh gods please…no. Please no."

Bill wrapped an arm around her, and the two huddled together on the floor, crying quietly.

Suddenly, there was a pop.

Harry looked up, wand drawn. Remus Lupin stood in the Weasley living room, battered, bloody, and missing half of his hair. His scalp was bloody, and there were long scratches down his face, chest and arms. But he was standing of his own volition. He crossed the room in two strides and pulled Tonks to her feet.

Tonks cried out in pain at the sudden movement, but when she realized who had pulled her from the floor she let out another sob and buried her face in Remus's shoulder.

"Thank Merlin, thank Merlin…oh gods, oh Remus…thank you. You're alive…thank you, Merlin. Thank you." She pulled frantically on his robes, clinging to him.

Mr. Weasley hurried into the living room, followed by Charlie. Both stopped short at the sight that greeted them. "Remus!" cried Mr. Weasley. "Thank God you're safe!" He took in his friend's appearance, and his eyes sharpened slightly. "What happened?"

Remus shook his head to indicate he did not want to talk about it. A tiny fleck of blood hit the carpet. Tonks looked up.

"No," she hissed. "What happened? Who was it?"

Remus sighed. "Greyback and…and Wormtail." He admitted.

Harry clenched his fists. He had let Wormtail go. This was partially his fault. "I'm sorry," he said.

Remus seemed to notice Harry for the first time. He did a double take.

"My God," he breathed, sunken eyes taking in a disheveled Harry in the half lit room. "You've never looked more like James."

Harry blinked back sudden tears. His father was dead, and now his parents' betrayer had hurt his father's only remaining friend.

"I'm so sorry," he said again.

Tonks let go of Remus, who crossed the room in two strides and pulled Harry into a hug. "It's not your fault," he whispered harshly. "If we'd really wanted to change your mind, we would have. Sirius would have tried harder. You were right. You were right in what you did, Harry, and don't forget it. It's not your fault."

Harry shook his head. "I need to go back to bed. Unless you need me for something." He felt vaguely ill.

Mr. Weasley looked worried. "No," he said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Go back to bed, Harry. Get some rest. Big day tomorrow, after all, eh?" He attempted a smile, and gestured at Tonks and Remus. "And now we have two early guests! We'll just get them cleaned up a bit and no one will be the wiser!"

Harry tried to smile, but his lips wouldn't move. He nodded. He knew it meant not to mention what had happened.

"Good night, then," he said, and walked back upstairs.

Harry paused on the landing outside of Ginny's room. Hermione was going to be in danger this year, because of him. Ron would be, too. He couldn't do it. He couldn't lead them into death.

As he got back into his camp bed, Ron's now-bloody shirt still on, he glanced at his other best friend's sleeping form. He couldn't let it happen.

He wouldn't add two more bodies to the pile.

**A/N: Here, my dears, is a longer chapter. Audrey, my muse, has decided to be nice and help me out. Thanks, Audrey. I appreciate it.**

**So. This chapter was...a bit violent. A bit fluffy. A bit...of everything? No. Because there's no D/G yet. But there will be. Oh, there will be. I promise. In abundance. Stick around.**

**Also...I humbly apologize for my brutal butchering of Fleur's accent. If anyone really talented with French accents feels charitable, I'd love the help. Thanks.**

**UP NEXT-**

**A wedding!**

**A tragic murder!**

**A prodigal son!**

**A ruthless and cold Hermione kicking ass and (literally) taking names!**

**And...the first steps of a long journey!**

**Stay tunnnnnnnnnnnned.**

**Oh, and review. That'd be nice as well. Really nice, in fact.**

**-Julia**


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